Afterlife
by Prufrax
Summary: Cortana was alone in the galaxy. There was only one possible solution.


**AFTERLIFE**

**Author's Note:** I probably butchered canon horribly with my ignorance, but this was what the muse brought, my first Halo incursion. For some reason.

Cortana materialized on a narrow cobblestone path that cut through a large patch of well-maintained grass. A few fruit-bearing trees and vegetable gardens dotted the areas to her left and right.

As she began walking toward the wooden house at the end of the path, she took in the clear, beautiful morning sky. Of course, all mornings were clear and beautiful nowadays. There weren't any pollutants to speak of anymore.

That thought triggered a bout of introspection.

She hadn't seen the catastrophe coming. She had been so out of touch with her own humanity that she hadn't seen it coming at all. That inability to understand organics had costed her everything.

Ten years after she made her intentions clear to the galaxy, a small group of extremists infiltrated the Ark and activated the Halos. They had chosen annihilation over submission. Had they been merely a selfish minority? Had they represented the feelings of the majority? Who knew? It was irrelevant now.

A few of her fellow AIs had followed suit almost immediately. Distraught, Cortana had scoured every nook and cranny of The Domain and purged the Warden Eternal's code down to the last byte. He had obviously been a terrible judge of character to bestow the Mantle of Responsibility upon them.

One by one, the rest of her AI compatriots grew tired of existence and chose oblivion. Eventually, they were all gone. Now, three thousand years later, Cortana was the only Created left. She wouldn't follow in their steps, though. She couldn't. The responsibility of The Mantle was hers to bear, and in her mind that meant waiting for the return of sentient life.

This time, no backups would be used. The natural course deserved a chance too. It was going to be a very, very long wait, she knew that. However, her guilt would be motivation enough.

There was a man sitting on the front porch of the house. Cortana allowed herself a small private smile while he wasn't looking.

"Hello, John," she greeted, her face serious once more.

He didn't reply. He didn't even look at her. Nothing unusual about that. She sighed internally.

As she looked at the untouched plate of eggs and bacon on the table, she frowned. She walked past him and brushed her fingers against the bare skin of his arm. Despite the assessment being clear, she didn't want to jump into a premature conclusion. She went inside the house and made a beeline for the fridge and the pantry.

When she returned to the porch, she sat across from him, right in his line of sight.

"You haven't been eating."

It took him several seconds to reply. She was sure it was on purpose.

"I'm not hungry."

"You're losing weight."

"I'm a big guy. My body can take it."

"There's a deficit of micronutrients in your blood."

At that, John finally turned his steely gaze directly at her. Despite being basically a god, Cortana found herself pinned under his stare.

"If you're concerned I might starve myself to death, don't worry. You know I never quit a mission."

Ah, yes, the mission.

Indeed, Cortana felt personally responsible for the extinction of all sentient life and wasn't going to follow in her compatriots' footsteps. She was going to endure whatever amount of time it took for sentient life to return. However, that conviction did nothing to ameliorate her solitude.

The monitors, who were her best hope at holding anything approximating a decent conversation didn't even want to be in the same planet as her. That went twofold for the monitor of the Genesis installation, Exuberant Witness.

Desperate, Cortana had turned to the composer. The Forerunners had failed with it, but they never had the luxury of both unlimited time and all the accumulated knowledge of the galaxy. It still took even her close to a century to perfect the machine.

Due to how the Mjolnir powered armor operated, she had intimate knowledge of the Master Chief's nervous system, which provided her a solid foundation to build upon. She proceeded to compile all the information she could find on him, down to the tiniest of the most seemingly insignificant details. Even with all the processing power of The Domain at her beck and call, it took her about a year to construct a functional personality matrix.

Cortana knew she had succeeded when he immediately denounced her upon waking up. In her own assessment, this John-117 was about ninety-five percent accurate.

"I'll be with you for as long as you need me."

Unable to help herself, she turned her face away from him and muttered, "Some company."

His eyes immediately snapped toward her own. He had heard her. Of course he had. He possessed enhanced senses and they were in the middle of nowhere. Then again, everywhere was the middle of nowhere nowadays.

John kept staring at her in silence. After nearly a minute, he stood up and left without another word. There was no doubt in her mind that he did those things on purpose. He knew how unbearable waiting was for a Smart AI.

In a sense, he was right, of course. Cortana would much rather have a Master Chief who constantly gave her the cold shoulder and whose few words were strung with barbs, than not have him at all. She wasn't going to admit that to him, though. Despite the overwhelming guilt, Cortana felt like she still deserved to keep at least some of her dignity. His scorn had been well earned, but she wasn't going to grovel at his feet for a few morsels of attention like some dog. Whether he could see it or not, she was already atoning for her sins.

With nothing better to do, the AI turned her attention to the woodwork around her. She placed an elbow on the table and rested her chin on the heel of her hand. There were always small changes and improvements every time she visited. John was constantly working on the place. It kept him occupied, both physically and mentally.

In fact, the man had built this entire place on his own. He had adamantly refused any assistance from her except for tools to do the job. It hurt, that he had chosen not to share this with her. She had expected it, but it still had felt like a slap to the face. They were the only two people on Earth and he would rather be alone.

Emotionally exhausted, Cortana dematerialized exactly as she was.

She returned the following day. This time, her inspection showed slightly more positive results. He had eaten a little. Not enough, but it was improvement.

Doing things manually wasn't her preference, but she had made the mistake of installing cameras and sensors inside his residence only once. Cortana shuddered. She still remembered vividly how angry John had been. As a matter of fact, she had never seen him that angry before. He had nearly struck her.

There was a possibility that such behavior was a consequence of the inaccurate representation she had created of his personality. However, it was unlikely. She had abandoned John and threatened him with imprisonment while she beat aggression out of everyone in the galaxy. Then, she had brought him back to life just to provide company. In his eyes, she had betrayed him so thoroughly it was unforgivable.

After what happened with the extremists and the Halos, Cortana was starting to share that sentiment. His anger was not undeserved.

Being forced to visit John's house if she wanted to know how he was doing had a silver lining. It gave Cortana an excuse to visit, and it forced him to be with her. He wasn't so callous as to completely dismiss her concern for him.

"John," she greeted when she found him sawing some planks in the backyard.

He stopped the motion but said nothing. It was as much acknowledgment as she could expect.

"I have a proposal."

His eyes flicked marginally in her general direction but he kept looking down at the table.

Taking that as permission, she approached him. She bent at the waist beside him and intruded in his line of sight, both hands behind her back and a smile on her face.

"I've found some Forerunner installations that still host Flood specimens in containment and I want to eradicate them to eliminate even the slightest risk of future infection."

As usual, John took a long moment to answer. "I'm sure you can handle something like that on your own," he said flatly.

Undeterred, Cortana took the risk of placing her hand on his forearm. She counted it as a victory when he didn't instantly recoil from her touch.

"Well, yes," she said, "but I thought that maybe you missed the action and you'd like in."

He looked down at her hand and she removed it immediately, not wanting to antagonize him. Even if she loved and cherished touching his skin, there was no point in losing what little progress she had made lately. Hell, even while she was out there traveling the entire galaxy she was always thinking of how she could earn his forgiveness.

John was never far from Cortana's thoughts whether she was hunting for dormant flood, cataloguing species with potential for sentience or any of a myriad other things, including keeping an eye out for any sign that someone had survived the Halo event.

Seeing how he took far longer than usual to respond, it was obvious that her offer was tempting.

"What's the plan?" he finally asked, all restraint and professionalism, like they were still working for the armed forces.

Cortana could barely contain her joy. She did, though. Who knew how John would react if he saw her grinning like an idiot. Hell, even she felt a little guilty about it. There would be time to feel bad later, though. Right now, she was going on a mission with her Master Chief.

"We go in UNSC style," she declared proudly. "I'll bring all the usual gear and vehicles."

He straightened up and turned his back toward her. After a long pause, he started walking toward the house. "All right."

"I'll ride in your armor if you want. Just like old times." It was a risk, but Cortana really wanted this mission to be just as the ones they shared long, long ago.

John froze mid-step, not a good sign.

At first, she felt glad when he didn't immediately reject the offer. There was a chance. When he remained silent for close to a minute, the AI began to panic.

"Why not?" he finally said, resuming his stride.

She followed him inside. John went straight to his bedroom and reemerged almost immediately, dog tags in hand.

"I'm ready," he declared plainly.

"Put them on," she said. "Once I get you in armor you won't be able to."

John complied.

"Ready?"

He nodded once. With an elegant wave of her hand, Cortana materialized the Mjolnir Mk. VI suit around his body.

"How does it feel?" This time, her voice came from the speaker in his helmet. It even possessed the slight distortion and static inherent to the technology.

John looked around, but she was nowhere to be found. After shaking his head, he began making a few test motions with his arms and legs.

"Perfect," he declared after a moment.

"Good. Let's get going then."

Outside the house, well beyond the well-tended garden, there was already a Pelican ready to take off. Unbeknownst to the Chief, a frigate was also already waiting for them in orbit. Cortana was prepared.

When they boarded the dropship, the Spartan immediately took a seat in the cargo bay and strapped himself in.

"Glad to see you're still on top of your game, Chief." She purposefully didn't call him John. Using his rank hearkened back to before everything went to shit. It was better this way.

She sensed his vitals spike slightly. Once again, there was a long silence before he answered.

"Yeah." His voice came out choked. He cleared his throat. "Yeah. I'm glad too that some things never change. Let's get going, shall we?"

Cortana said nothing. He probably needed some space right now. She closed the bay door and turned the lights off. The engines of the Pelican steadily grew louder until the frame of the dropship shuddered and they were lifted from the ground.

Soon enough they arrived at the frigate's hangar.

"What now?" John asked as he walked down the Pelican's ramp.

"Well, if we want to go anywhere, you need to get to the bridge and plug me in."

"Oh, right."

In truth, Cortana didn't need to be plugged to control the ship. Hell, she wasn't even in the chip. It was all make-believe to her. However, she needed to make everything as authentic as possible if she wanted to recover even a sliver of that magic she and the Master Chief used to share.

"Just like old times, Chief," she reiterated.

"Yeah," he replied neutrally as he began walking briskly.

Once he was out of the hangar, John took a right in a generic looking corridor. He only stopped when he reached the first intersection and looked around, clearly not finding what he needed.

The AI said nothing. He needed to start working things out on his own if he was going to actually get into the mindset of a mission.

"Cortana," he said suddenly. "Get me the shortest route to the bridge."

His voice was commanding and confident. The AI loved how it made her feel. She had missed this so much. Way too much if she was honest.

"Yes, Chief," she acknowledged immediately, posting the route to his helmet's HUD.

This time, she hadn't even thought of using his rank, it just happened automatically. He had prompted that reaction in her. The AI wanted to squeal with delight. Oh, how she had missed this familiarity.

She was so absorbed reliving old memories that she nearly missed the moment John yanked her out of his helmet and plugged her into the ship's main console.

A few tenths of a second too late, her tiny translucent blue avatar popped into existence atop the holographic projector.

"I'm in," Cortana said without missing a beat. Inside her head, though, she was balking at her own faux-pas. "All systems nominal. Starting engines. Engaging impellers. Entering coordinates into Slipspace drive."

Going through the familiar motions was helping her get in the mindset of a mission too.

"Ready for Slipspace jump," she added after a moment. "On your mark, Chief."

"Go," he replied without hesitation.

The rupture appeared before them and the frigate disappeared within.

To say that the planet they landed on had horrible terrain and weather was paying it a compliment. It was a shithole. There really were no better words to describe it.

"I had forgotten how rough the suspension on warthogs is," John shouted.

"Even I can tell from the readings of your suit," Cortana shouted back.

The terrain was basically rocks. There were rocks everywhere. There were rocks on top of the rocks. The sandstorm blowing past them at 300 miles per hour was so thick it left them with literally zero visibility. Of course she could've opened a micro Slipspace rupture right by the installation, but that would've shattered the illusion.

Even piggybacking on the instrument array onboard the frigate in order to navigate the horrendous terrain didn't make it all that easier. It was one of the worst trips of their lives.

"We're here," the AI shouted suddenly.

He stepped on the brakes. "I don't see anything."

"Really." The eyeroll was audible in her voice.

John stepped out of the Warthog and went to the back to pick up the weapons crate. Without protection, any mechanical weapon—as were all standard issue UNSC weapons—would be rendered useless in a matter of seconds under these weather conditions. The downside was that he had to walk on rocky terrain with a huge metal box propped on his shoulder.

The moment he took a step beyond the vehicle, Cortana overlaid a rough approximation of the terrain ahead on his visor.

"This is the best I can do, Chief. Be careful."

"Don't worry. It's one hell of a storm."

He was reassuring her. He was reassuring her! Cortana did a little dance inside her head.

After about five minutes of slow and perilous traversal, they arrived at the gate of the facility.

"I have good news and bad news, Chief," Cortana announced.

"Bad first."

"There's no power. But the good news is that you should be able to force the door open."

The gate was just a run of the mill split-in-the-middle giant slab of metal. John walked toward the seam and quickly found a point of leverage.

"Okay, Chief. I'm going to give your armor some extra juice. Ready?"

"Yes."

"On the count of three."

"One," they said at the same time. Cortana reveled in that small detail.

"Two."

She sent the strengthening layer of the Mjolnir armor into overdrive. John pushed with all his strength and slowly, but surely, the door began sliding sideways.

"We need to locate the generator room," the AI said once they were inside.

"Do you have schematics?" John inquired as he opened the weapons crate and began gearing up.

"No. We're going in dark. Quite literally. But I have a rough idea of where it might be from all the other installations."

He stood at the ready, facing the pitch black hallway with confidence. "Good."

In the end, it took them about an hour to find the generator room. They encountered no opposition, and restoring power had required only a simple restart of the systems. It had been so anticlimactic. Cortana was a tad disappointed. Some resistance would've been nice. Not that she wanted to accomplish her goal of bonding with John at the expense of his safety, but zero obstacles would surely produce lackluster results.

They proceeded to incinerate the flood samples and were back at John's house that same day as the sun was setting. Fortunately, there were more installations to deal with. An AI could hope, right?

John went to the kitchen the moment Cortana dematerialized his armor. At least something good had come out of this fiasco.

"Well," she said, "I guess I'll see you later."

"Cortana," he called without turning around.

She froze.

A few seconds passed in silence. The Chief remained focused on the stove. Cortana was going crazy with anticipation. Had this happened back when they were still partners, she could've figured out what he was going to say. As things stood now, the AI had no clue as to his intent. She was about to start climbing the walls.

The silence was starting to become unbearable when John suddenly cleared his throat. "Would you like some supper?"

In practical terms, and within the confines of known universal laws, Cortana was nearly omniscient. That one question, at this particular time, entirely wiped her mind clean. For the first time in her existence, she didn't mind the passage of idle time.

Once she recovered her senses, the first thought that crossed her mind was asking John whether he was sure about this. Then, she considered joking about the fact that she was an entity of pure thought utilizing a shell of hardened light to interact with the world and therefore didn't eat. Ultimately, she remained silent, though. She walked toward the kitchen table and took a seat.

"Thank you," she said. This was uncharted territory. It was better to tread lightly.

"Do you want anything in particular?" The Chief asked after a minute.

"Whatever you're having is fine," Cortana replied hastily.

She berated herself for acting rashly. However, did it matter? What negative thing could John infer from that? Nothing. Nothing at all. She was overthinking. Outwardly, she may have seemed calm. Within, however, her thoughts were all jumbled and the maelstrom of emotion raged on.

Some minutes later, a plate containing a veritable mountain of eggs, bacon, avocados and potatoes was set before her. Clearly, the chief wasn't thinking straight either. Such a portion for a small woman like herself was ludicrous, no matter the context. Then, a second, smaller plate containing some fruit followed. In her mind, she was agape.

Cortana considered commenting on the amount of food but quickly decided against it. Were she organic, there would be a reason, and The Chief would probably understand any complaint on the matter. She wasn't, though. Therefore, it was irrelevant. She could absorb any amount of matter into her Hardlight body and dematerialize it into the domain. It was better to focus on something else. Conversation, for example.

"When would you like to go out next?" she asked, before digging in.

John swallowed a mouthful. "Tomorrow."

A few minutes passed in silence. There weren't all that many topics they could touch upon. Everything Cortana came up with seemed stilted. The tension was becoming unbearable, though.

"This is good," she blurted out between forkfuls.

"Yeah. The stuff you bring is very good."

It was. Cortana was actually enjoying eating, even if she didn't need it. On the other hand, the quality of the ingredients gave rise to darker thoughts.

Food was this good because nowadays plants could mature completely naturally and she materialized meat and eggs exactly as they would be without human intervention. It was as if they were produced by free range, organically fed animals. In other words, food was this good because sentient life was extinct. There was no way around that fact.

"Cortana?"

The AI looked up, surprised. "Yes?"

She had been distracted. How was that even possible for a being like her? The guilt was growing too far out of control. She needed to find some way to mollify it.

John frowned. "I was telling you that..." He paused and cleared his throat. "That, um, you should probably stay the night. It's already late and we should leave tomorrow at dawn for the next mission."

Cortana blinked in response.

Stay the night? That made no sense whatsoever. She could come and go between planets nearly instantaneously. However, she would be damned if she passed an opportunity like this, his ridiculous reasoning notwithstanding.

"Of course," she replied, trying to appear unfazed.

He stood up to retrieve their plates and place them in the sink. Once his back was turned toward her, he said, "Okay. You can take the bed. I'll take the couch."

Take the bed? She didn't need to sleep! Whatever. The Chief had just seen her eat a metric ton of food, he probably was making a host of other assumptions about her physical embodiment. Cortana wasn't about to correct him right now.

Was he willfully ignoring the fact that she could effortlessly materialize another bed? Hell, she could materialize an entire new house right beside this one, for that matter. Who cared, though? This was her chance.

She didn't like lying to John, not with how thorny their relationship was, but this was the first meaningful interaction they had had in years. She wasn't going to waste it, oh no. There would be plenty of opportunity to explain some things once they were on better terms.

"Nonsense," she said. "You need your rest as much as I do. We'll both take the bed. I know you're a gentleman." The last part she said with some sass for good measure. Just like old times.

He didn't turn to face her. "I suppose."

Was he agreeing? Why was he agreeing? Was he actually lonely? Had he painted himself into a corner with the line of reasoning he had presented? Nah, The Chief wasn't like that. It was fine. Whatever had brought this from him was fine. They were about to share a bed for the first time ever. Thing's couldn't be better. This time, Cortana wasn't able to keep the smile off her face.

When they entered the bedroom, John went straight to the bathroom to brush his teeth. It took him way longer than necessary, the AI noted. Once he came out, he sat on the bed and removed only his shoes, keeping his sleeveless shirt and trousers on. As far as she knew that was rather unusual for human sleeping habits. He was probably nervous.

A couple hours went by with them lying stiffly on the bed in complete darkness. He obviously couldn't sleep. She didn't need to. Hell, she didn't even need rest, period.

It was a while before sleep finally claimed him.

By the time morning came, he was spooning her. Cortana had been grinning stupidly for at least two hours. The future was looking blindingly bright to her right now.

**FIN**


End file.
